


Your Eyes in My Memory

by Paladin-Pile (UserFromPluto)



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Middle School, Protective Makoto, haru draws, theyre both so sweet at this age ugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6811696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UserFromPluto/pseuds/Paladin-Pile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Haru, why is my name on the cover next to a heart?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Eyes in My Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OhMyNanase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMyNanase/gifts).



> Just a little something I wanted to do for the lovely @ohmynanase, <3 Prompt idea is hers.

   “Hey, freak. What’cha doing hanging out with that Tachibana kid?” 

  Eleven-year old Haruka sighed internally and didn't take his eyes off the sidewalk, the bags of rice and vegetables he had bought at the market in each hand. The group of high school boys that had been harassing him for weeks were not much older than he, but somehow thought it was ok to bully younger kids. Haru ignored them and kept walking.

   “Hey! We're talking to you.” The boys sped up a bit and surrounded him, forcing him to stop. Haru looked up slightly and gave them his best glare. Talking would get him nowhere, better to just stand and stare angrily until they were done. 

   “Sooo we have a problem,” A lanky boy with black hair sneered, crossing his arms. “We think Tachibana is cool. Sure he’s a little young, but he’s big, tall, and popular. He’s gonna be a hit when he gets older, and we want him in our group.” He paused and leaned in close to Haru’s face. “But ya know what the problem is? He’s stuck with you, a little wimp who doesn't even talk.” The boys laughed loudly and Haru narrowed his eyes, trying not to wince when the bigger boy poked his chest. “He won’t even look at us when you’re around, so we’re telling you to back off, let him get some better friends.” With that, the group dispersed, but not without a few shoulders purposely shoving him as they passed.

   When they were gone, Haru walked home. When he entered the house, he took off his shoes and sat down on the floor, bags and all. He pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them, picking at a string on his pant cuff. The boys’ words still tossed about in his mind, and Haru wondered why they made his chest ache so sharply. Was Makoto really ‘stuck’ with him? Did he want to get other friends that were better than Haru? The thought created an ugly, twisting feeling in his chest, but that just further proved he was being selfish. If it was for Makoto’s good, Haru decided, he would try to stay away, encourage him to do things with other people. Haru breathed deeply until the squeezing in his throat went away, then took the groceries to the kitchen and made his dinner in silence.

  
  


   “Haru-chan! C’mon, school is over. Let’s go to my house and play with Ren and Ran!” Makoto was absolutely enthralled by his little siblings, never wanting to miss a chance to be around them, and Haru had to admit he felt the same. The idea of spending the afternoon in the Tachibana house warmed his insides, but deep down he knew he couldn’t. The warning of the older boys still lingered in the back of his mind, and so he made another excuse, just as he had been doing for the last several days. He was trying to be discreet about it, but he could tell Makoto knew something was up, and couldn’t help but feel bad when his friend’s smile would fall whenever they separated. He would get used to it. He had too. It hurt though, Haru missed his best friend. Missed his smile and laughter, his warm hand in his, pulling him along if he was late. Haru sighed and watched Makoto’s back grow smaller as he shuffled away, looking out of place without Haru at his side like usual. Turning, he walked away before he could think too much.

  
  
  


   It had been nearly a month since Haru’s first encounter with the bullies, and even though he had been “backing off” a bit, it must not have been enough, because they still would not leave him alone. A glare here, a shove there, a muttered threat or slur when Makoto wasn't within earshot, all continued. Each day Haru’s heart grew heavier and heavier in his chest, but he tried his best to hide it from Makoto. He had begun to hope that maybe they had given up, that they wouldn't approach him anymore, but when he walked away from school after ditching Makoto yet again, that hope was dashed. They were waiting on the street corner, eyes all on him, and Haru clutched his backpack closer, heart speeding up and he tried to go by. 

    No such luck.  A hand shot out and grabbed his shirt, making Haru stumble backwards and fall into another boy who had appeared behind him. One grabbed his arms, another took his backpack, and suddenly he was surrounded. 

   “Nice to see you again, kid. Too bad you didn’t take our advice last time.”  _ I did,  _ Haru thought, but wasn't about to say that. “What do we have to do, huh?" The leader growled, "To persuade you to  _ stay away from Tachibana. _ ” While this was happening, a few others unzipped Haru’s backpack and began to rifle through the contents.

   “Hey look at this,” one of them said, and Haru’s breath caught when he saw what was in their hands: His sketchbook, his most precious possession, the dark blue one with the dolphin silhouette that he carried everywhere, spent hours drawing in. He tried to pull his arms away from the grip that held him, but they only grew tighter. The boys gathered around and flipped through it, jeering at the drawings of waterfalls and sea creatures that filled the pages. Haru’s breath quickened and he struggled harder, desperately hoping to distract them before they got to the back of the book, but it was too late. Silence fell over the group as they saw the drawings of only one subject that now covered its pages. 

   It was filled with pictures of Makoto.

   Makoto eating his bento under a tree, Makoto sleeping, Makoto petting the cat by the front steps, Makoto swimming, Makoto with various expressions on his face that only Haru saw. Haru’s blood boiled at the thought that anyone else was seeing these sacred pictures, even more so if they didn’t deserve it. Haru grit his teeth.

   “Give it back!” He demanded, aiming his foot and giving a swift kick to the nearest shin. Instantly there was an angry shout and Haru was slapped hard across the face. He screwed his eyes shut at the stinging pain, and heard a low voice close to his ear.

   “What’s with all the pictures of Tachibana, freak? You in love with him or something?” Haru heard a rustle of paper and peeked his eyes open to see the first boy waving the book in front of him, a sketch of Makoto’s smiling face staring vacantly. He didn't even give Haru a chance to respond, and simply yanked the book back. “Disgusting,” he spat, lips curling in a sneer. “What do we do with it?” A few ideas were thrown around and Haru began to shake, wishing for this all to be over so he could go home in peace. Hadn’t they done enough already?

   Apparently not. Haru’s eyes grew wide in horror as the main bully walked to the side of the road and, without any hesitation, threw the sketchbook into a mud puddle. Time seemed to slow down for Haru as he saw the book land; thick, brown water sogging its pages.

   “NO!” He yelled, tears clouding his vision as the boy brought his foot down on the book, grinding it deeper into the mud until it was almost out of sight. 

   “Shut up!” Someone demanded, Haru couldn't tell who, “Those drawings were garbage and you’d better lose your obsession with Tachibana. He doesn't want you!” Tears flowed openly down Haru’s face. He wished he wasn’t showing such weakness, but he couldn’t help it. Each word was like a knife to his already bruised heart. 

   “Better not let Tachibana know your little secret,” another voice laughed, “He’ll kick you to the curb in no time. Hey! That's actually a good idea.” Haru was suddenly shoved toward the side of the road, losing his balance and falling on his hands and knees next to the puddle. Jeering laughter filled his ears, and he didn’t bother getting up ‘till they were gone, and the last “See ya, freak!” had died into silence.

   Haru felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut, limp and unable to move. He slowly dragged himself up with a sigh and dug his book out of the mud. For a while he stared at it with a empty expression. It was unrecognizable, mud completely caking the pages. Quietly, he hugged it to his chest and sat down on some nearby steps.

 

   That was how Makoto found him sometime later, while making is own way home from school. Haru was wet and muddy, hiccuping slightly and trying to rub tears off his face. Makoto gasped when he saw him and immediately ran to the blue-eyed boy.

   “Haru! Are you ok? What happened?” He cried, dropping his bag and gently touching the reddening mark on Haru’s cheek. Haru looked up at Makoto, then slowly loosened his grip on the sketchbook.

   “Some boys…” he began, _and_   _ how much should he tell Makoto? _   "...From the high school. They’ve been...after me,” he mumbled, not meeting Makoto’s gaze. “They ruined my book,” he finally said, ‘cause that’s all Makoto needed to know.

   “Haru-chan…” Makoto’s voice was filled with sadness, “Why didn’t you tell me they were bullying you! I could have helped, or we could have told a teacher!” Haru didn’t respond, and he knew that Makoto knew he wasn’t telling the whole story. He wanted to tell him everything, to have Makoto hug him and stroke his hair and tell him that none of what those boys said was true, but somehow Haru was still afraid; of what, he didn’t really know. After a bit of silence, Makoto sighed and took Haru’s hand in his. “Let’s go home, Haru. Please don’t say no again.” 

   Haru noded once, meeting Makoto’s gaze for the first time, and slowly they begin walking back together. It wasn’t until they turned onto their own street that Haru spotted a trash can next to a building. Tugging Makoto over, he held out the sketchbook and dropped it inside without a word..

   “Haru!” Makoto wailed, “Don’t throw it away!”

   “It’s ruined,” Haru simply said, “It would be no use to keep it.” He didn’t feel the pain of loss anymore, just emptiness, and Makoto was looking at him sadly as if he knew all that. 

   “We’ll get you a new one, Haru-chan,” Makoto assured, “and I’ll make sure nothing touches it or you again.”

  
  


   Haru didn’t think too much of Makoto’s words at the time. It was a nice thought, but such promises were futile and certainly not within the ability of his green-eyed friend. Now, calmly eating his lunch the next day, he allowed his mind to wander. He was sitting in the school cafeteria waiting for Makoto, who had excused himself as soon as class was over. “I’ll see you at lunch, Haru-chan!” He had said, waving, and Haru just shrugged, not having a chance to question the strange behavior. It wasn’t until he had almost finished his food that he began to wonder where Makoto was. He thought about going to look for him, but decided not to in case he came back to the cafeteria anyway. 

   The door suddenly flew open and Haru looked up, but it wasn’t Makoto, just a girl he recognized from one of their classes.

   “There’s a fight outside!” She shouted and every person in the cafeteria rose as one and rushed to the windows, chattering excitedly. All except Haru. He remained seated, sighing deeply.  _ How troublesome _ , he thought. He didn’t care if someone was fighting, it did not concern him. He tried to finish his meal in peace, but gasps and exclamations of surprise suddenly rose from his schoolmates.

   “EH!! Makoto-kun is fighting those high school boys?!” One shouted.

   Haru eyes grew wide and his piece of mackerel fell from his chopsticks before it reached his mouth. Instantly he was on his feet, pushing and shoving through the group of children to reach the nearest window, and when he finally did, all the air was snatched from his lungs.

   Out on the school’s yard was the very same boys that had harassed him. Some were yelling, others were sitting on the ground clutching their face or some other body part. But what Haru could not tear his eyes away from, was the biggest boy lying sprawled on the ground, and the familiar figure sitting on him, clutching his collar, sending punch after punch to the taller boy’s face. It looked like Makoto, but surely it wasn't  _ his _ Makoto. The Makoto who couldn’t sleep without a nightlight and held onto Haru’s shirt when he was nervous, who jumped at every little noise and stopped to pet every kitten in Iwatobi. So who was the Makoto he was currently seeing with unbelieving eyes? With shoulders taut and eyes narrowed, hands balled into fists, taking on boys bigger than himself? 

Haru’s world suddenly slammed back into motion and his feet began moving without thought. He slid around the corner, nearly losing his balance, and ran as fast as he could. His heart pounded wildly and his mind was blank, too stunned to even think. When he burst through the school doors and into the yard, his stopped abruptly, chest heaving. The fight was apparently over, and his gaze fell immediately on Makoto who was standing off to the side, a teacher talking to him soothingly, hands on his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye Haru saw some of the bigger boys walk away, some with bloody noses, but he didn’t care about that now. His eyes were fixed on Makoto, who was still standing stiffly, not looking at the teacher. 

   Haru took a few steps closer and Makoto’s gaze snapped to his, shoulders sagging when he saw who it was. Haru could see conflicting emotions swirling in those shining green eyes, but did not have a chance to speak before Makoto broke away from the teacher and grabbed Haru’s arm, dragging him around the side of the building and to their special hiding place, a spot between some bushes and a staircase where they would be out of sight. No sooner had they come to a stop then Makoto turned and engulfed Haru in a hug, burying his face in the shoulder of Haru’s jacket. 

   “Don't listen to them Haru, nothing they said is true!” he blurted. “I always want you with me! I love you so much…” His voice was slightly muffled by Haru’s jacket but the words were still clear. Haru’s heart felt like it would burst and hugged Makoto back tightly, not trusting his voice to speak. 

   “I’m so sorry,” Makoto continued, voice wavering, “I’m sorry you were treated so terribly. That’s why you were avoiding me wasn't it?” Haru didn't have to answer, Makoto knew. He sighed deeply and continued in a lower voice. “I’m sorry for fighting, I don’t know what came over me. Usually I’m not that brave but, they hurt Haru and suddenly I didn’t care about anything else!” He trembled a bit in Haru’s embrace and Haru rubbed his back gently, hoping to reassure him.

   “It’s ok, Makoto. Thank you.”

   Makoto sniffed loudly and pulled away, wiping his face. “I’ll never let them near you again!” he said vehemently, ”I’m sorry about your drawings.” He ran a hand through his already messy hair, and Haru noticed his knuckles were bruised. He looked at Haru with eyes so full of care and tenderness, that Haru never wanted to forget the scene. The smaller boy smiled at the picture in front of him and took Makoto’s hand.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll make new ones.”

  The next day, when Haru got his new, light-green sketchbook, the first thing he did was open the cover and write Makoto’s name, next to a tiny heart.

  
…….

  
  


   “Haru?” A sleepy voice murmured next to his ear. Haru rolled over in bed and laid the sketchbook down between them. Makoto was squinting at the early morning light and clearly not fully awake. “Is it morning already?”

   “Yeah,” Haru replied softly, but made no move to get up, preferring to watch Makoto’s little blinks and breaths as he slowly became more alert. “It’s our first day of school in Tokyo,” Haru added, and huffed out a small laugh when Makoto’s eyes widened in shock.

   “Eh! Really? You should have woke me up sooner, Haru!” 

   “It’s fine, Makoto,” Haru said amused, “We’ll still be on time.” Makoto moved to sit up in bed, but then noticed the object lying between them.

   “Oh! Is this your sketch book from middle school?” Makoto asked, picking it up and falling back onto the bed, flipping through the well-used pages. He smiled happily, “Ah, Haru was such a great artist even then!” 

   “It was nothing,” Haru murmured, cheeks coloring as he looked away. Makoto simply glanced at him and chuckled, then gasped softly as he spotted something. 

   “Haru, why is my name on the cover next to a heart?” He asked, eyes shimmering as he traced the writing with his finger. Haru hummed and snuggled up to Makoto, leaning his head on the other’s broad shoulder and breathing in his scent. 

   “It’s because I love you,” he said simply, and closed his eyes, knowing that no matter where life took them, that would never change.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr!  
> @utsukushin


End file.
